


Once Bitten, Twice Shy

by LazyBaker



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 07:49:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyBaker/pseuds/LazyBaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They think I’ll bite.” Will said. Practically growling through the few holes.</p><p>“Do you want to bite me, Will?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Bitten, Twice Shy

It was an interrogation room, practically. Two chairs and a table, all bolted to the floor. No window to speak of, just the fluorescent light burning his eyes. The walls were what made the small ten by ten room stand apart from the old and grimy interview rooms in the precinct of Louisiana. Padded. White padded walls with the remnants of patients having flung themselves against them.

And of course Hannibal Lecter was sitting in the chair facing the door. You wouldn’t find Lecter involved in any interrogations. Will, despite the anger and the knowledge of being innocent that has kept him living in the predicament he was forced into, felt his stomach plummet passed the cement floor.

He never knew what to expect when it came to Hannibal.

 

* * *

 

Will’s ankles were handcuffed to the chair legs. His arms were restricted by the straightjacket. _The rich man’s sleeping bag._

And the mask, well. Chilton took every precaution. He’d practically been gift wrapped for Hannibal. All he needed was a bow.

There’s a camera in the room, facing in his direction. Is it on or off? And he knew the answer before he even finished the question.

“How are you, Will?” Hannibal said. His voice light. Genuine. _It’s a trick._

“Why is the camera shut off? Planning something, Dr. Lecter?”

Hannibal looks to his left, not turning his head completely. Will can feel the waves of amusement coming off of Hannibal. Like he’s entertaining him.

“A request, of sorts.”

 

* * *

 

Even in the starch fluorescent lighting Hannibal managed to look regal. The curve of his face becoming sharp, his eyes shadowed into something surreal and intangible. Hannibal had moved from his chair and was leaning against the table. Will could see the individual threads of Hannibal’s suit.

Expensive. The best quality.

He reached out and Will jerked back.

Hannibal wouldn’t attack him. At least not here. Not without reason. His heart, though, was racing. He’d imagined seeing Hannibal again. Each time the fantasy differed. In some he killed Hannibal.

A few times the police and the doctors listened to him, heard him, and believed Will when he said Hannibal was at fault. Other fantasies that festered, those he ignored. He wasn’t in his right mind.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Hannibal ran his thumb along the plastic of Will’s mask.

“It’s a shame.” Hannibal said.

Will moved his head away from the prying touch.

“They think I’ll bite.” Will said. Practically growling through the few holes.

“Do you want to bite me, Will?”

A giddiness erupted inside him, a bubble that had been growing larger and larger at the insanity that was his life pushed at his skin and was absorbed by his lips. He knew what he’d look like. He was posing the front of what Hannibal wanted from him.

Feral.

“Oh, Dr. Lecter.” Will grinned, “I’d like to do a lot more than that.”

 

* * *

 

“Do you know why I did this, Will?”

“Does it matter?” Hannibal nodded, his eyes a bright red. Not real. Something inhuman. Will wondered faintly, a passing thought in an already too busy head. Hannibal’s hand went lower, tracing the hard folds of the straight jacket. Will felt the touch as if he was one fire and there wasn’t thick fabric separating them. “You wanted me in here to push me. To make me into whatever you think I should be.”

Hannibal shook his head, disappointment filling him. “Not what I think, no. Merely to show you who you really are. Who you could be.”

“A murderer?”

“No, no.” Hannibal leaned in, his breath warm and too inviting for Will to bear for a second longer. “Human, my dear Will.”

 

* * *

 

It was hard to breathe in the mask. Will had never worn it before. He imagined his face was one of morbid horror as the orderlies held him and strapped it to him, non too gently. It was just a thing of white and clear plastic held loosely in Barney’s hands. It held a presence of foreboding. Of dignity being stripped from him. Of putting him in place of a wild animal that needed to be confined.

Barney had apologized when he noticed where Will was staring.

“Do you remember, Will? The night they released you from the hospital.” Hannibal fingers blazed a trail down his chest to his thigh.

He’ll definitely have red marks when they finally take the damn thing off.

“I had driven you home and you invited me in--“

Will’s breath fogged the plastic for the most part, the holes circulating out the humid air slowly. He felt dizzy. Hot. He wondered if this was part of the design of the mask. To keep the person captured and docile. To deny him even a fresh breath. To keep his mind only on the thought of his breathing, the air becoming used and stale.

“--I like to think it is a good memory for you. One to help you through this.” Hannibal squeezed his thigh. His hand large, enveloping him. Too warm. His thumb teasing the thin fabric covering Will’s cock.

“You killed Abigail.” Will said. His mind seemingly floating above where he was. He felt high. He could slip through the ceiling and suffocate himself in space.

Hannibal’s hold on him tightened. Bruising. A vice promising to not let go.

“Stay with me, Will. In this moment. Feel only this.” Nails digging into his thigh. The raggedness of his breath as he fought not to look. Deny Hannibal the satisfaction.

 _Hannibal_ , he knew, _will never let me go._

 

* * *

 

It was simple to let Hannibal do what he wanted. What Will wanted. A moment of comfort from the man he hates. A chill had taken permanent residence in his spine.

Shame coursed through Will’s veins. A helpless want kept him from calling for the orderlies waiting outside. Hannibal had easily dragged Will’s pants down, with Will giving only the slightest lift of his hips.

His hands soothing down his legs, comforting almost. It made Will want to kick him. To beat him. To make the smug look never see another day again.

Will shook as Hannibal took him in hand.

“The camera--“

“Is shut off,” Hannibal pulled the foreskin back and squeezed the head, rubbing circles slowly on the sensitive underside. The air in Will was gutted from him, “I do enjoy my secrets.”

 

* * *

 

Hannibal moved to his knees elegantly. Always elegant. Another part of the perfectly manufactured presentation. Even giving a handjob Hannibal had poise. Will felt sweat drip from his brow and onto the mask. It was getting hard and harder to breath. He was a mess, inside and out.

“Your anger is understandable.” Hannibal said. Looking almost bored as Will panted.

“Are you seriously going to psychoanalyze me while your hand is on my dick?” Will rocked his hips up hard. Hannibal’s grip tightened and Will’s head fell back onto the chair. “And like hell is it understandable. You have no right Hannibal.”

Hannibal licked his lips, a predator coming to life.

“I am your friend, Will.” He leaned in, his lips hovering over the slit. Will tried to move back but there was no where for him to go. A metal chair bolted down at his back and Hannibal trapping him.

The cuffs on his ankles dug into the bone.

“Perhaps you need to be reminded.”

 

* * *

 

Will closed his eyes. For a moment he was back in Wolf Trap. His dogs were sleeping by the fireplace. It was quiet. Only the sounds of the crickets and the wind pushing against the house. The world was asleep. Peaceful and lulled.

Hannibal was in his bed, looming over him. Will was on his back, grasping at the sheets. Newly bought. High thread count because Hannibal wanted to give him the fine things in life. And the bed was the first place to start.

His hand grabbing at Hannibal’s hair. Softer than it looked. He tugged and Hannibal sucked harder and groaned.

Hannibal’s lips were wrapped around him. Will was warm. He was safe. And the look Hannibal was giving him made him feel devoured.

He was being taken whole and every bit of Will was being cared for.

Will felt loved.

 

* * *

 

Hannibal pressed his lips against the plastic, running his tongue along the holes. Spit and Will’s cum came together, entangling themselves. A whine burst from him. High pitched and wailing. He wanted to kill Hannibal. To fuck him. To burn him like he did Georgia. To ruin him.

“Won’t you taste?”

Hannibal stayed where he was, his face as close as it could be while the mask seperated them. Will moved then, slow as he extended his tongue and licked at the sparse filth that made the warmth start to boil again. The taste was sweet. A sticky mess.

Hannibal pulled out his pocket square and wiped him. His touch gentle. He cupped Will’s cheek and cleaned the mask. Quickly he folded the fabric back into his pocket.

If it weren’t for the slick sheen and puffiness of Hannibal’s lips, Will would have thought he’d imagined it.

Hannibal sat back on his heels, looking up at him. There was so much fondness being directed at him. Will hated it.

“I have aloe vera collecting dust. You’d always leave a mark after we’d kiss.” Hannibal said rubbing a hand along his jaw. He smiled, small and to Will’s despair, genuine and-- sweet.

“Was that a kiss than?” Will said.

“What else could it be?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ([tumblr](http://granpappy-winchester.tumblr.com/))


End file.
